


The Sweetest Christmas

by oddgit



Category: Person of Interest (TV)
Genre: Christmas, Christmas Fluff, Christmas Presents, Cuddling & Snuggling, Fluff, Harold slips on ice, How many times can I tag fluff?, Hurt/Comfort, Kissing, M/M, Sleepy Cuddles, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, because... harold
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-21
Updated: 2017-12-21
Packaged: 2019-02-17 20:49:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,421
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13085091
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/oddgit/pseuds/oddgit
Summary: “Merry Christmas Mister Reese,” he sighed and fell into an easy and comfortable sleep.John smiled to himself and closed his eyes, “Merry Christmas Mister Finch,” he whispered.





	The Sweetest Christmas

**Author's Note:**

> Here's a bunch of Christmas Rinch fluff to brighten up your holiday! 
> 
> Special thanks to M_E_Lover as always for beta and the encouragement! 
> 
> Comments and feedback are my purpose :P

It was a chilly December afternoon in New York City. The kind of cold that makes the air have a bitter feel to it. John and Harold were wrapping up a fairly simple number. The holiday season always saw the same things, family members angry with each other and eventually taking things too far.

Walking down the sidewalk they were surrounded by Christmas trees and people rushing by them with their arms full of bags doing last minute shopping… it was Christmas Eve.

“Ever think of relocating south, Finch? I mean I’m sure there’s crime to be preventing somewhere it’s not 5 degrees.” Reese teased as they walked back to the car. Finch’s shivering was clearly visible and Reese could hear his teeth chattering. “70 Degrees in the winter… no ice… beaches…” Reese’s smile could have lit up a room.

“Mr. Reese…N…New York is m...my home.” Finch shivered as the soft puff of his breath was illuminated with the twinkle of sunlight as the sun set over the skyline. He didn’t say what he was really thinking… New York was where Grace was, New York was where Nathan had died, New York was where he had built the machine, New York was where he first met John…he couldn’t see himself leaving. Reese kept smiling and patted Harold on the back.

Walking back to the car, Harold felt his foot slip on a patch of ice and before he knew it, his back slammed into the ground, quickly followed by the back of his head. He curled into himself; pain burned up his spine to pound stridently into his skull. He raised an unsteady hand to touch the back of his head, he hissed and cringed at the throbbing lump he found there. He could faintly hear the sound of John’s anxious voice calling his name.

“Harold… look at me… can you stand up?” Harold stared at John, his eyes clouded over and glossy.

“I… I don’t know,” Harold whispered back but then he felt his eyelids start to get heavy and he slipped into darkness.

#

Harold woke up slowly. The pain in his back was almost immediate, along with the throbbing in his head which made his stomach churn. He squinted and blinked, searching around the room until he found a tall handsome figure sitting in a chair next to his bed.

_John._

He remembered slipping on the ice but then nothing after that. By the decorative red and gold colors of the décor, he realized they were at the safe house on 57th… one of the three scattered around the city that was best stocked for medical emergencies.

“John…” Harold groaned, his throat dry and hoarse.

John jumped up out of his chair and grabbed the glass of water that was sitting on the table next to him. “Here, drink.” He held it to his lips slipping his hand carefully behind Harold's neck to help him carefully lean forward to take a sip. “You feel alright?” John asked, scooting the chair closer to Harold’s bedside and sitting down. “Any dizziness or nausea?” If the constant throbbing and fuzziness as to what happened after he fell weren't enough to tell him he had a concussion, John’s questions were.

“No…” Harold lied, he felt like he was going to throw up at any moment. “Just… have a headache… and my… back hurts,” Harold groaned.

“I don’t doubt it… you smacked the ground hard.” John lifted his hand and gently stroked Harold’s matted hair away from his forehead. “The ice monster jumped up and tripped you,” John said, barely containing his laughter.

Harold let a smile slip, but then glared at John… trying his best to look annoyed. “Dr. Tillman said you have a concussion and a lower back strain, which means bed rest for two days... You’ve been out for a while...” John glanced over at the clock sitting on the end table _. 3:45 am_. “She wants you to go for x-rays on your back after you’ve rested just to make sure it’s not worse.”  Finch sighed and put his hand over his face. He hated hospitals, they held so many bad memories for him.  “She left some pain medication… do you want some?”

“No…no I should be fine for now…” Harold lied again.

“Finch, come on. I know you well enough to tell when you’re lying or not.” John sighed, “I know you’re probably about to throw up too... I’ve had a concussion…or three” He added with an easy smile.

“Fine Mr. Reese… would you please be so nice as to bring me some pain medication?” Harold retorted in the practiced sarcastic tone he had perfected over the years.

“Why yes, I can Harold.” John got up from his chair and brought back two pills. He offered the two tablets with another sip of water and helped Harold lift his head up again so he could swallow them down. He helped Harold lay his head back down on the pillow.

“I’m sorry I’ve ruined your Christmas Eve John…” Harold whispered and turned his head as best he could to face Reese, sinking further into the pillows.

“You didn’t ruin anything Harold. We get to spend all night and tomorrow together… and without anyone shooting at me. What could possibly be better?” John’s eyes softened and he smiled. “You should try to get some more rest though Finch…”

Harold noted the black circles around John's eyes and the heavy stubble coating his cheeks. He patted his hand over the space beside him.

"The bed seems to be big enough for two." He smirked.

John’s smile grew on his face too as he stood up, unbuttoning his dress shirt, removing his belt, socks and shoes and he stripped down into just his dress pants. He lifted up the soft plush blanket and slipped in next to his partner. He slid his Sig Sauer under his pillow, receiving a soft sigh and roll of the eyes from Harold.

John snuggled Harold close carefully and Harold burrowed deep into the younger man’s open arms. John was pressing warm gentle kisses to the hurt man’s forehead and temple, murmuring soothing, warm reassurances into his ear. Snuggling close against John, watching the snow fall gradually onto the city below them, Harold felt himself drifting off to sleep. John soon followed as his breathing shallowed out and he too drifted off into a sweet slumber.

#

Harold awoke to the pleasing smell of roast turkey and cherries wafting into the room. He looked around; checked his surroundings again and noticed that John wasn’t lying in the bed next to him.

He heard pots and pans and glasses being clanged around in the kitchen and gathered that John was out there. He grabbed his glasses off the nightstand and sat up in bed gingerly, feeling every ache and throb in his back. Thankfully, the headache had subsided some. John entered the room as he shifted his glasses more comfortably onto his ears.

“Morning… well, afternoon Harold,” John said with a grin and sat down on the edge of the bed with an ice pack in his hand.

Harold glanced at the alarm clock, _12:45 pm_.

“You should put this on your back.” John motioned for him to sit forward so he could slip the ice pack between his back and the pillows.

“I know all too well how to handle back pain, John,” Harold scoffed, sitting forward, gasping at the frigidness as John placed the pack firmly on his lower back.

“I know…” John said standing up. “Dinner’s almost ready… I’ll bring it in when it’s done.” John smiled and went to leave.

“Dinner?” Harold asked, confused.

“Yes, Harold. Christmas dinner,” John said, walking out the door.

Harold had forgotten it was Christmas… he couldn’t even remember the last time he spent Christmas with anyone.

During college, he usually spent it alone at a diner. After college, he always dodged the invitations from Nathan to join his family by making up a story about how he was sick or how he was going to visit family in another state… all of which Nathan knew were lies. The years he was with Grace, she had spent it with her family, leaving him to spend the day at IFT. 

John entered the room carrying a tray with two plates, both of which were full of turkey, a slice of ham, mashed potatoes, stuffing, and cranberries. There were two other plates, each with a slice of cherry pie on them.

John sat the tray down and motioned for Harold to wait. He came back in with two wine glasses and a bottle of Cabernet, and in the crook of his arm was a box that was wrapped in lovely red and silver paper with ribbon and a bow on top. “What’s in the box, John?” Harold asked innocently.

“Don’t worry about it. Let’s eat first.” John smiled and climbed into bed next to Harold, handing him his plate and glass of wine.

“So I assume you were a five-star chef in another life?” Harold asked jokingly as he took a bite of the mashed potatoes first.

“My mom taught me how to cook when I was younger. I’d always help with Thanksgiving and Christmas dinner.” John said, grabbing his glass of wine.

“Mmmmm” Harold moaned. “It’s absolutely delicious, Mr. Reese… your mother must have been an excellent cook.” He smiled, as did John. They ate in companionable silence with the occasional sigh of pleasure from Harold.

#

“So…” Harold said lifting up his handkerchief to wipe his mouth after he finished off the last bite of his cherry pie. “Are you going to indulge me as to what is in the box?” he asked nonchalantly and sipped his wine then set it back down on the end table.

John grabbed both their plates and smiled at Harold sweetly before taking them out to the kitchen sink real quick. He came back in and took his place next to his partner on the bed again. He handed the wrapped box over, “Merry Christmas, Harold.”

Harold took the present from John shyly and opened his mouth but words came timidly. “I… John… I don’t know what to say…” he finally stuttered.

“Why don’t you just open it...” John grinned and motioned towards the box.

Harold set to unwrapping the ribbon and then carefully unwrapping the paper. He reminded John of his grandma who would always save the wrapping paper after she got a present. Harold opened the top of the box revealing the snow globe that was inside. He beamed from ear to ear and lifted it out, revealing the New York City skyline that was covered in snow, shaking it and making the tiny flakes flicker and slowly float down onto the miniature buildings. “I know it’s kind of dumb…” John started…

“No.” Harold looked at him affectionately. “I love it, John. Really.” Harold cleared his throat and wiped the stray tear from the corner of his eye. “Thank you.” He leaned over and kissed John, groaning slightly at the pain that shot up his back.

“Well, that’s not all that I got you…” John said getting up from the bed again. Harold could hear him rustling around out in the living room, pretty soon John’s head popped in the doorway. “Close your eyes.”

“Really…?” Harold scoffed. John just continued to smile at him.

He sighed and closed his eyes.

“No peaking.” Reese smirked and went to go grab the other present. “And… open them!” Harold opened his eyes to see a black computer chair with a large red bow attached to it. His mouth grew into a smile, and he felt a lump creep up in his throat, “The guy at the store said it was the best ergonomic chair they make. I figured if you’re going to be spending all those long nights at the computer when we’re working the numbers, you might as well have a good chair for your back,” Reese said.

Harold kept smiling, “Get over here.” Harold said patting the bed beside him. Reese did as he was told and climbed into the bed, Harold lifted his hand up to the back of John’s neck and pulled him in close. Their mouths came together tenderly and they each savored the thorough pressure of each other’s warm lips. 

 “Do me a favor?” Harold asked, hesitantly breaking the sweet kiss. John nodded. “Go over to that dresser, top drawer there should be a shopping bag… grab it and bring it over please.” John got up and brought back the bag to set it in front of Harold. “Well… it’s for you…” Harold started with a smile on his face. John grinned back and opened up the bag. “Sorry I didn’t have time to wrap it… I was going to last night…” Harold’s mouth fell.

“Don’t worry about it… you didn’t even have to get me anything.” John said pulling the brand new brown and black pistol holster out of the bag. He smiled and looked at Harold.

“I hope you like it… I had Detective Carter help me pick it out…” Harold’s cheeks reddened and he smiled bashfully at John.

“I… love it, Harold.” John smiled and leaned in, cupping Finch’s cheeks, he kissed him lovingly. He got up from the bed and hooked it onto his belt, grabbed his Sig from the table and slipped it into the holster. “How does it look?” He joked as he modeled it off for Harold. Finch laughed and complemented Reese as he walked around the room, feeling like he finally had someone in his life again, someone he could trust, someone he could love.

#

Harold and John lie on the bed later that night, Harold’s head tucked contentedly against John’s warm chest. _It’s a Wonderful Life_ played in the background, quietly on the TV. The soft cottony snow fell from a clear night sky outside the window, looking a lot like the wonderfully detailed snow globe John had gotten Harold.

Harold sighed, warm and fully relaxed into the ex-ops tender embrace. “Merry Christmas Mister Reese,” he sighed and fell into an easy and comfortable sleep.

John smiled to himself and closed his eyes, “Merry Christmas Mister Finch,” he whispered and he too nodded off and joined his partner in complete and utter bliss. The numbers had miraculously given them a reprieve while Harold recovered, and for tonight all was well and right in the world.


End file.
